


Leaving a Life Behind.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels), valuna



Series: Feudalverse [4]
Category: British Actor RPF, Dracula 2000 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-29
Updated: 2006-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That night, Gerry visits Jon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving a Life Behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Series warnings: It's a medieval society with all the Machiavellian twists you'd imagine. Expect some rough sex, noncon. Don't let that put you off, though. We'll warn for specific parts' potential squickage.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fiction, and it has nothing to do with reality. There's no relation between the actors who have the faces associated with the characters we've created.

The sky darkens and Jon's still playing with Sean. He can't bring himself to send the boy to bed. Not yet.

"I don't want you to go away." Sean pulls out the shirt Jon's packed three times already, tossing it to the floor. "No good reason."

Jon sighs, sits on the floor and pulls the boy into his lap. _So young. It's all so confusing._ "There is a good reason, Sean," he says, making his voice play out the lie. "Jude is king now and he wants me to do this, so I must."

"Jude bad king."

"No," Jon says sharply. Of all the problems that might arise from this strange arrangement, he will not have Sean hating their brother. "Jude is a good king. And he must be obeyed. Right?"

Sean pouts.

"Sean. You have to promise me you'll be a good brother _and_ loyal subject. Jude needs you with me not here."

There's a long silence and Sean cuddles himself into Jon's arms. "Okay," he mutters. "I'll be good."

"Good. Now will you help me finish packing?" Jon smiles, cups Sean's chin and tilts his head up. "I will need that shirt, brother."

Sean crinkles his nose. "All right." He pulls himself out of the embrace, stands up and asserts his tiny self. "And I'll get your boots. You'll need them. It snows a lot up there."

"Yes, it does." Jon watches Sean move away. _He'll be all right. It will work out._ He pushes himself off the floor and picks up the shirt, folding it again.

"Can I come visit you?"

"Of course, Sean. As often as you like," Jon says, tucking the shirt into the case, "and as Jude permits. As long as you mind your nurses."

How sweet. Gerry's standing in the doorway, unseen, and he watches the brothers talk. Jon's loyalty is to his brothers, that much is clear, and Gerry wonders just how much pressure he will have to exert before he can bend that loyalty to his desires.

"I promise, Jon. I'll be good, 'cause I wanna come see you," Sean says, bouncing from the closet, "even if you are in the bad place."

Jon shakes his head slowly, takes the boots from Sean's hands. "It's not the bad place, Sean. It's just ..."

"But you never say nice things about the general."

"That's because I don't like him. Now, grab my dark blue coat, please."

"Okay." Sean turns and starts to scamper across the room to the winter storage chest. He stops mid-skip, looks at the doorway, spying Gerry there. "Jon. Bad man here."

Gerry smiles at the name. The child needs to learn discretion, but his innocence is charming. "Hello, your highness." He nods to Sean, then looks to Jon. "Have you finished saying your goodbyes, or would you like some more time?"

Jon walks over, wraps his arm around Sean protectively, moves him toward the open door. "I am just sending my brother to bed, general. Excuse me." He meets Gerry's gaze defiantly. "Sean, your nurse is waiting there," he says, leaning down and giving the boy a quick kiss on the head before scooting him into the hall. "I will see you in the morning."

Gerry waits in the room, watching the boy leave. Jon obviously cares for him and Gerry wonders idly if Jon feels the same for his older brother as well.

"You wanted something?" Jon says, turning his attention back to Gerry briefly as he walks across the room, closes his case.

"To see you." Gerry crosses his arms. "And to see if there was anything you needed to have set up for you at home for your comfort."

"I don't suppose that includes having you live in a different country," Jon says, emphasis on the sarcasm. He pulls the locked case onto the floor. "There's the three cases of clothes, along with the writing desk and chair." He glances over his shoulder at Gerry. "They were gifts from my grandfather, and I should like to have them with me."

"Then you will." Gerry smiles at Jon. There's no harm in charming the lad, especially not when he's still a shout away from the palace guards. "Despite what you may believe me to be, I have no desire to make this harder on you than necessary."

"Then why do it at all?" Jon nowhere near smiling yet, but he manages not to frown. "You could make the alliance another way."

"How?"

"Pay tribute like the other generals, ask for land and soldiers. Why do you need a prince?"

Leverage. Control over a man with a claim to the throne. "Anyone could have land and soldiers. The king has only one eligible brother."

"And you think me an ally. Never."

"As much an ally as an admission of need from the king." It's safe to say that much; there's no one around to overhear. "And you are not unattractive, your highness."

The faintest of blushes creeps over Jon's cheeks. He has never liked being flattered. "That may be so, General, and my brother may have agreed to your bargain, but none of that means I have to like the situation." He smiles now. "Or you."

Gerry shrugs. "That's not necessary." It's an arranged marriage and, in Gerry's opinion, it's a much better match than the other offers Jude had received. What more could Jon want?

Jon's not at all comfortable with Gerry, but it _is_ Jon's room, at least till morning, and he's comfortable here. He perches on the window's wide ledge, draws his knees up against his chest. "Why not marry me to your sister? That alliance could produce an heir, give you more solid link to the throne."

_Then I wouldn't be able to have you._ "This link is more solid. Even an unacknowledged match is stronger than an acknowledged one to a sibling." And Julia would not appreciate Jon's delicate beauty. She would spoil him, giving in to his every wish. Jon needs a firmer hand than that.

"You presume a lot, General, that I am of the ilk to prefer your company to hers." Jon would like to make the statement stronger, but he knows he cannot, not with clear conscience. Nor can he deny an attractiveness on Gerry's part, one that cuts through the repulsion in ways he'd sooner ignore. "Do not assume my loyalty to my brother extends to debasing myself for your pleasure."

"I hadn't assumed that it would." _I'll train that into you, lad._ "As I said, I wish only to see to your comfort. You are my king's brother, after all."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Jon turns his head, stares out the window.

"Why?" Gerry walks slowly over to where Jon is sitting. He ducks his head, clasping his hands behind his back, and softens his voice. "Why do you doubt me?"

_Too close._ Jon feels trapped, but to bolt would be too rude. He pushes back against the stone wall, looks over at Gerry. "We have never liked each other, General, never been more than respectful acquaintances for the court's sake. You have shown no interest in me until now, given me no reason to trust you have no ulterior motive."

"I have been nothing but honest about my motives." Gerry's gaze follows the curve of Jon's throat, down his chest, lingers near his groin. "Politics, yes, but you have your own charm." _No interest? Who do you think put this idea in Jude's head?_ "There are worse fates."

Jon can feel Gerry's careful study, the eyes raking over him. "I have a charm," he murmurs, turning his gaze more directly at Gerry. "Enough so you could choose me and not take a wife." He smiles, lips parted slightly. "I suppose I should be honoured that I am such a prize to be sought."

"There will be other generals after me," Gerry murmurs. "But there is only one prince."

The unease gathers force, Jon's skin turning cold and then hot and then he's shifting against the odd coiling in his belly. "Perhaps you should leave now. I'd like to be alone the rest of the night."

"Very well." Gerry wonders if Jon's disgusted by him or aroused. Perhaps both. "I will see you in the morning, your highness."

"In the morning," Jon echoes, already turning away, staring once again out the window, watching the full moon settle on the horizon.

"Good night, your highness." Gerry doesn't bow as he leaves, but he knows Jon won't notice. And in the morning, the prince will be his. How delightful.


End file.
